


Call It Dreaming

by paradiamond



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, I just love them, Leta POV, Relationship Build, just a little exploration of these two, mentions of both bisexual Leta and Theseus offscreen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 07:45:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradiamond/pseuds/paradiamond
Summary: Leta enjoyed corrupting the young men of British wizarding society, and Theseus was prime, blood red with possibility. Theseus liked pretty girls. Neither of them counted on where it would lead.





	Call It Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> For all the love you've left behind  
> You can have mine

Flirting was half the fun, and she saw immediately that he felt the same way. 

“Impressed with how well I’ve grown up?” Leta asked over her glass, letting the light in her eyes dance and hoping he could be the thing to make the evening salvageable. 

Theseus Scamander kept his eyes fixed on her face. Too fixed, trying not to look her up and down even though she’d already seen him doing it from across the room. When he looked at her, he saw right through to the wall, missing her entirely. Perfect. 

“It’s true,” he said, smiling. “I’m used to seeing you with skinned knees, not looking like a princess.” 

As compliments went, it was weak, but sweeter for the way she suspected he never practiced it in the mirror. Never reused his own lines or pulled them from books. For the most part, he didn’t have it, handsome as he was. 

She held out her hand. “Would you care to dance?” 

His eyebrows flew up. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“I might say no, better not risk it.” 

He grinned, and he was really quite compelling when he smiled. And no more looking through her, not anymore. When he raised his hand, she took it, and led him out to the floor, headless of the ones watching them. Let them watch and be jealous. 

Theseus set a hand on her waist, respectful, proper. Leta followed suit, her hand on his shoulder. They were trained, both at Hogwarts and also separately, for their respective forays into society so they didn’t embarrass the family. The London season for bachelors and bachelorettes was a microcosm of London wizarding society, stuffy but grand. This party was much the same, some boring fundraiser she’d been compelled to attend along with half her former class. 

Leta’s own season had been noteworthy for several high profile fights she had gotten into with her father and one of the other girls, earning her a first class ticket back home and weeks worth of taunts, yelling, and on one memorable occasion, a slap. 

They’d put her out far too young, afraid she wouldn’t be snapped up quickly enough. So she stopped it from happening at all. 

Theseus drifted a step closer than was strictly polite in this venue, with eyes only for her. “You’re an excellent dancer.” 

“Thank you,” she said, and was gratified to see him look disappointed at the normalcy. He was so bored here it poured off of him in waves. So she threw him a bone. “I always dance with the men I’m considering sleeping with, it helps me see if they’ll be any good.”

Theseus tripped, missing a step, and she laughed, earning herself a glare from a passing couple who looked like they were dancing on air, all the living color utterly trained out of the both of them. 

He schooled his expression, poorly, still scandalized but not bored, not anymore. “And how is it going?” 

“If I have to tell you, then not very well.” 

A lesser man would have flinched, more pride than personality. Theseus didn’t. When the dance ended, he kept her hand, stroking his fingers along the softness of her gloves. Leta basked in the attention, and he thrilled in the possibility. It was fun. 

Nothing happened that night. She had a reputation, but it was exaggerated. After all, she barely knew him. 

***

“I see,” Leta said, looking him up and down. “Why?” 

“I’d like to get to know you better,” Theseus said, his hands behind his back, standing on her doorstep like he owned it. She hoped they were shaking, just a bit. “I was hoping for another chance to prove my worth as a dancer.” 

Leta leaned against the doorframe. “How so?” 

“I know a club.” 

She bit back a smile. “Know of it, or know it well?” 

“Neither,” his own smile is boyish. “I’ve been there, but only once.” 

“Nowhere that would ruin your sterling reputation I’m sure.” He was, after all, a war hero and an Auror. 

“Not unless we really work at it, I expect.” 

“Surely you don’t expect me to come with you right now?” 

Theseus shrugged. “I’m not above waiting outside for a beautiful woman.” 

“Apparently.” Across the street, one of her father's co-workers slowed on his way, watching them. 

“Not opposed to waiting inside, either.” 

She laughed, and closed the door in his face. “I’ll meet you there!” 

His voice came through the door muffled. “You don’t even know where it is!” 

***

The next time the door closed, Theseus was behind it with her, against her, pushing her into it. 

His hands nearly burned where they touched her, skimming along her ribs, drawing to drop down, lower, holding the cradle of her back. He kissed her like he was dying, like she was the very last one. 

When they surfaced for air, his eyes were burning. “Is anyone...?” Leta shook her head. She lived alone; her family had money but they were embarrassed of her. She might as well live up to it. 

Theseus smiled and drew his hand along the bare skin of her shoulder. The dress she had worn was scintillating, wildly inappropriate for the venue of their first dance and rather demure for the spirit of the second. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. 

“You’re perfect.” 

Leta narrowed her eyes. 

“I wasn’t kidding before, you know,” she told him between kisses. “I have experience with other men, if that’s going to bother you, I suggest you leave.”

It clearly didn’t. They never minded. 

Theseus drew his lips along the line of her jaw, soft and sweet, before resting their foreheads together. “If I may be honest too?” Leta nodded, heart pounding. “My own experience is rather limited, but I’m an excellent student.” 

“I remember.” 

“Hope not, I’m much more handsome now.” 

She laughed, and led him upstairs. 

They had sex, and it was fine, good enough. When he lacked in skill he made up for in charm and an earnest desire to please her. Pleasure came from the harmony of parts, physical and otherwise. Theseus knew the dance, he just needed some practice. 

In the hour when late started to verge on early, she saw him out, smiling, his excitement at sneaking around catching. He crossed the street, then waved at the closed door while Leta watched from the peep hole. 

She rather never expected to hear from him again. 

***

Flowers appeared on her desk at work. Big, ostentatious roses. But at least they weren’t red. 

Her mousey coworker sat on the edge of her desk. “What does the blue mean? I’ve never seen that one before.” 

Leta fought the impulse to push her off the edge and picked at them, pulling one of the petals off to rub between her fingers. It wasn’t soft because it was dyed. Blue roses didn’t occur in nature, not even in their world. 

It was tempting to tell her that it meant something bad. She could choose to see bad in it. He might have been telling her that their relationship was impossible, that she was closed off, unknowable. But he wasn’t. 

She shrunk the vase down to stick in her purse to move them home, where only she could see them. “It means mystery.” 

***

When he called on her this time, she expected it. The anticipation had curled in her stomach, a warmth that followed her wherever she went for days. In response to the flowers, which still had yet to die, she sent back the sock he left under her bed tied with a blue ribbon. He’d take it as a joke or an invitation. Either way. 

Three days later, a card was slipped under her door, spelled only to reveal itself to the receiver. An invitation to come hunting, of all things, like the muggles did. 

It was a rather odd date, and she told him so. 

“Well,” Theseus adjusted the rifle on his shoulder. He had offered to carry hers, which pleased her, but she had turned it down. “Engaging in muggle sport is all the rage right now, I thought we could embrace the times.” 

“And you couldn't think of anyone else to go with that would be both willing and fun.” 

He laughed, probably scaring away all the animals. “That’s fair enough. Certainly my brother would never dare.” 

“Oh, are we bringing him up now?” Leta made a show of checking the skyline, though she wasn’t at all sure what they were supposed to be looking for. “I wasn’t sure.” 

He turned to look at her, but she kept her face pointed up. “I don’t see why not, his...well, that’s ancient history, isn’t it?” 

“Of course. But men are sometimes so sensitive about these things.” 

“Me, or him?” 

“All of you.” 

“Ah well, that’s the other reason for this. I have to set myself apart from your other suitors somehow.”

Leta smirked. “I don’t have many suitors, mostly stray dogs.”

“And a hunting dog, now.”

She laughed, unable to help it. 

They made a show of trying to hunt, shooting off the rifles randomly into the air and scaring all the birds away. But it was clear that Theseus had no love for the sound of gunfire either, so she feigned boredom and they settled down to eat the food he brought, turning the guns back into sticks and throwing them into the woods. 

Theseus leaned up against a tree, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Leta sat up straight all on her own, like a civilized person, at least while they ate. Then she laid down on the blanket, enjoying the fickle warmth of the sun filtering through the trees. 

“What do you want from me?” 

There was a long pause while he tried to work out what he was supposed to say, and then gave up. “I like you.” 

“I enjoy you too, but are we friends or are we attempting something else?”

“Can we not be both?” 

“Fundamentally, yes, of course. The best couples always are.” 

“But they’re couples.” 

“Exactly.” Leta opened her eyes to see him watching her intently. “Attempting to keep sex and friendship touching but separate never works. You either have to go all in, or pick one and stick with it.” 

Theseus had a kind of intensity absent in most people, and she saw it now. “I don’t want to be your friend, I want to be your lover. Maybe more, one day.”

It was bold for him, and she saw how the words cost him by the sweat at his brow. She could lick the line of it down his spine. “Getting ahead of yourself?”

“I know how you appreciate clarity. I do remember you, you know.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I do.”

***

They went on dates, both traditional and unconventional. 

On the surface, they weren’t so odd. It was only when people knew both of them that they stared. A harlot trouble maker and a war hero. How quaint. For the most part, Leta ignored them, though it bothered Theseus. Strong moral character and all that. 

“I just don’t like it,” he said, propping his feet up on her table, which she allowed only because she had just picked a fight over him taking off his shoes at the door. 

Leta leaned her top half back into the room from the kitchen. “Well, if you’re looking for a suitable wife, you’ve come to the wrong girl, I’m afraid.”

Theseus smiled. “Good thing I’m not.”

She rolled her eyes and finished with their drinks. Leta was born unsuitable and they both knew it. The only difference was that he was just feeling it now, while she had sensed it her whole life and had more practice. 

He caught her hand as she set the drinks down, pulling his feet off the table and her into his lap in the same motion. She arched her back against the flat plane of his chest in a moment’s indulgence, her body remembering every time they had sat like this in bed, her between his legs, his hands all over her. 

She turned sideways, hooking her legs over the arms of the chair and her arm along his shoulders. She felt him relax, utterly comfortable under her touch, with the state of their lovely little lives for as long as it lasted. The bubble they sat in was so pretty, and even more beautiful for its short lived life, more valuable. 

“Will you promise me something?” 

Leta narrowed her eyes and picked up her drink. “Perhaps.” 

The all-too familiar smirk appeared. “Of course. I was merely asking if you would promise, and I know that you’ll say that all we can do is promise to try, that no matter what happens between us we’ll retain this ease between us.” 

“Whatever happens?” 

“Well, let’s say I ask you to marry me, and you say no.” 

“Difficult to maintain ease over a man’s wounded pride.” 

“I know,” he stroked her arm, gazing up at her with half lidded eyes. He hadn’t even had any of his drink yet. “But over a long enough time, I hope we can come back to each other. Keep the heart of this alive, the friendship.” 

She studied him in silence for several seconds, and he let her. “If that’s what you want, then I’m sure we can.” 

“Good.” 

“Were you talking to Newt about me?” His eyes skittered away. She swallowed a laugh. “I see.” 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to bring up old ghosts.” To his credit, he railed and her her eyes again. “I value you so highly, Leta. I don’t think you know. And I...I don’t need to have you, or to love you, to want you in my life.” 

The skin under his hand was hot, almost burning. She wondered if it felt the same on his neck. “Another woman might think you were breaking up with her.” 

“I’m not.” His hands shifted on her, drawing circles up and down her back, along her leg. “Quite the opposite.” 

Leta leaned in to rest her forehead against his. “I know.” 

She wasn’t one to back down from something she wanted. And she was starting to think she wanted him very badly. 

Whatever he saw in her eyes was good enough to settle him for now. “Pass me my drink?”

“Sure.” 

***

It was warm in her bed. Leta laid like a cat in the sun, eyes half closed, basking on his chest like a towel at the beach while he drowsed beneath her. The light from the window was growing dimmer, giving the room into a dreamlike quality. The space between. 

Her muscles held a pleasant burn, and she felt it every time he breathed, just as he must have been able to feel the movement in her. She had never gone so long with one man before. It should have been boring. He should have been boing. 

Theseus was visibly thrown, and fascinated, when she mentioned being with women in the past. She’d seen that before. But there was also something else, a sort of vulnerability in his eyes. She left it alone, and sure enough, a few days later he asked her what she thought about the other way around. Two men. She was as honest as she knew how to be and said it was fine, doubled down by telling him that she would never tolerate other women for her future husband, but that other men would be a different story, as long as he was willing to return the permission. 

They hadn’t spoken of it since, but she had seen him thinking on it. And now that she was looking, seen him watching other men. They hadn’t done anything about it, but Leta had been considering what she might be able to do for him in that regard. What gifts she could provide with her support and permission. Perhaps they’d have the chance to find out. 

Leta would arrange for a friend to join them. Just a girl, small, unthreatening. Theseus would burn with watching them together. And Leta would hate for him to even look at her, could play that up for their fun, pulling his attention back to her. 

The next time, Leta would find a man who wouldn't care about her at all, some beautiful slip of a boy who only had eyes for the great war hero. 

“Who’s your new friend?” Theseus would ask. 

Leta would smile, just for him. “Your birthday present.”

Theseus, struck frozen. Eyes darting around, afraid to get caught and so, so excited. 

“If you want it,” she clarified, in her mind. “Very much not interested in me and mine, but very interested in-”

“I see.” The hoarseness in his voice. The possibility. 

Outside the dream, Theseus shifted his weight underneath her. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

Leta hummed, tracing patterns into his skin. “Nothing.” 

“I doubt that. I can practically hear it.” 

She raised her head, then folded her arms across his chest and rested her chin on them. “Well what are you thinking about?”

“I told my parents I was seeing you.” 

“Oh dear,” Leta said, and her heart clenched when he looked away. There it was. 

“It’s just...it’s difficult.” He didn’t want to say it. But she’d asked him not to lie to her, so he hadn’t. 

This was probably the time to say something romantic, to be that girl. But she just didn’t have it in her. 

“More difficult than it is worth it?”

Theseus cocked his head to the side. “Huh.” 

***

Leta braced her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart pounding, feel the way his muscles strained and bunched as she rode him. This was her favorite, for today at least. She had so many favorites when it came to him. 

Theseus panted, gripping the headboard above his head just like she asked him to, sweet as silk. His arms shook with wanting to touch her. Knowing that she would let him eventually. But he asked for this, for her to use him, to take her pleasure. It burned hot, illicit with the touch of female pleasure for the pure, wet sake of it. 

He went down on her for hours sometimes, pulling it from her, building her up. Then he had her when she was drained, a shell of pleasure, just for him. But sometimes, now, he wanted her to just knock him down. And Leta wanted anything, all of it. She wanted. So much. 

He shifted beneath her and brushed up against a place of quicksilver energy, sending her into a shock of pleasure so sudden she let out a startled cry, redoubling her efforts, chasing herself down an endless spiral of feeling, and finding it. 

When she opened her eyes, it was to him staring up at her with his mouth open, still holding onto the bed, his knuckles white. Still hard, still shaking. “Well, aren’t you,” she had to pause to take a breath. “Sweet.” 

The flush spread up from his chest to his face, blotchy red. She followed it with her fingertips. “Tell me.”

“Oh, Leta,” he whined. “Touch me.” 

“You touch me.” 

His hands were all over her in an instant, pulling her down and then pushing her back up and over, onto her back, along her legs, spreading them apart and hooking her knees up and along his hips as he slid back inside. She gasped, arching her back. She wouldn’t come again, not from this, but the feeling was delicious. The desperation, the skin on skin friction. 

After all she had just put him through, the way she wound him up and set him loose, it was fast, a race to the finish line, to relief. And he did seemed relieved, pressing his face into her neck and shuddering as he came, the shaking giving way to a gently hum, flowing between them. 

She ran her hands up and down his back, the pleasure melting in her bones. Theseus nuzzled closer into her neck and hummed.

“Mmm.” Leta mimicked him, laughing. 

He turned his head to the side to give her one of his looks with one eyes, and she giggled harder. “Are you asleep?”

“Dead.”

“Ah.”

“Mm.” 

She wiggled beneath him, getting his elbow out of her side and their hips more or less detached. Blanket. Cleaning spell. Theseus was a useless lump, watching and dozing. “Hungry?”

Leta shrugged. “Not particularly.” 

“Good.” He fell asleep. 

***

Leta woke up because she was being watched. She pulled her head out of the crook of his arm and squinted at him through her hair. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking.” 

“Goodness.” 

“What if…” he leaned up and stroked her ribs, one after another. “I was thinking about marrying you. More than usual, I mean.” 

She laughed. “Is this a proposal? 

That earned her a stern look. “No, if and when I propose to you, you’ll know. This is a conversation.”

“How modern.”

He smirked and skimmed his hand along the underside of her breast. “I think we’ve long passed that mark.”

“Thank Merin.”

“He’s got nothing to do with it.” They curled closer together. “Truly though, I’m not the sort to marry for the sake of it, no matter what my mother says.”

“Ta’ very much for bringing her up while we’re both naked, but yes, I take your point.”

“Do you?” He tickled her, and she shrieked, smacking him on the back of the head. “Well, she always says not to pick the exciting one, but the one you can stand looking at from across the table for the next fifty years, but I think I can have both.”

“Oh yes?”

He nodded, suddenly very serious. “Why not?” 

“Well-”

“I could see myself having breakfast with you for the rest of my life, Leta. I can see us fielding a million questions about why we haven’t had children yet at boring ministry functions. We could have each other’s backs, be partners. I can see it.” 

The shocking thing was, she could too. She had to whisper, but it came. “I can too.”

His smile could light up the room. It lit up her life. Had done since she saw him the first time. 

***

His proposal was excellent, just right. Intimate and classy. 

They went home, to her home which was rapidly becoming theirs, and set about ruining each other. 

Theseus picked her up and threw her on the bed so she bounced, then followed her down. “Let’s do something daring.” 

Leta laughed, prodding him with her stockinged foot as her rucked up her skirt, making himself comfortable. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, save it for when we’re really bored of each other.”

Theseus looked up from between her thighs, mischief, and certainly, and love all right there. “I’ll never be bored of you.”

He meant it, too. And right up to the very end of her life, he was right.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
> paradiamond.tumblr.com ~ for more of this and endless Leta sets bc I'm obsessed with her now


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